Avalon
by Azar443
Summary: 'And when we meet again, it will be like spring, with life returning and old hurts fading. It will be love.' ArMor *AU as it does not really follow current Merlin storyline.*


**Author's Note: I ship ArMor, therefore I write Armor. This is my first fic, so do be kind. I am not following the current Merlin storyline, so AU here. Reviews, especially constructive criticism (Note: NOT flames) are welcome. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the TV show Merlin, nor do I own the legend of King Arthur, along with the characters of Arthur, Morgana, Guinevere, Lancelot, Merlin and Bedivere. If I did, Arthur and Morgana would've been together a long time ago.**

* * *

The little boat floated steadily, on through the mist that coated the air. I sat in there, my velvet hood from so long ago covering my face, my heart filled with anxiety, sadness and trepidation. I was going to see him again soon, finally, after the long, long, years.

I wonder how he looks now, if he looked as he did before. No lines of age marred my face, and I looked no older than five and twenty. No older than the day we parted.

I do not age. I will never die. For so long I have seen friends and family fade and wither along with time, but not I. It is the curse of immortality; to live and to see all that you love being laid to rest beneath the earth. But now, now that the time has finally come, I think that, for all my sufferings and pain, it is all worth it.

They call me Morgana Le Fay; Morgana of the Fay. Some call me the Lady of Avalon, though most of the time it is Nimue, Lady of the Lake who lays claim to that title. They say I hate King Arthur Pendragon, High King of Britain, of Albion; while some claim that I am his half-sister. Both are wrong. I am neither sibling nor enemy to him, merely someone who has loved him for so long.

I foresaw his destiny, his marriage to Guinevere, her affair with Sir Lancelot, and the hurt they caused him. I knew right from the start that she would never be good for him. I loved him, but destiny would not allow it and neither would its keeper, Merlin. Guinevere was destined to be his Queen, the woman that he loved and held in his arms; I was destined to be his enemy.

Of course, I never was his enemy. How could I hurt the one person that I loved more than my own life? How could I take his life knowing that if he died, I would not have the will to live? Nonetheless, Merlin saw fit to ensure that destiny would be obeyed. He ordered me to leave, to leave Camelot and Arthur, to be exiled to the wilds till the day came I could no longer do harm to him.

I left. I did not fight. I could not, would not risk any chance that I might hurt him, that by staying near him I would kill him. Of course, I knew that it was someone closer to him who would bring both Arthur and Camelot down: his beloved wife.

I warned him, begged and pleaded with him to wed another before he married her, before I left his side. He laughed it off. He did not listen. He never did. But I was right. In the end, it was the darling of Camelot, Queen Guinevere, who dealt the killing blow onto Camelot and Arthur; not I, the wicked sorceress whom the people of Camelot curse with their every breath. I smiled bitterly. It gave me no satisfaction to know I was right. I never wanted to see him hurt, only to love and protect him.

I still remember the day I left. I did not tell him the real reason for my departure. He would not understand. He would have tried to hold me back, to convince me that destiny was not written in stone. We neither of us shed any tears on that day. I think, maybe in our hearts of hearts, we knew one day we would be reunited. Even if we had to be parted for years, decades; it mattered not as long as we would meet again. And when we meet again, it will be like spring, with life returning and old hurts fading. It will be love.

And now I am going to receive him, and bring him back to Avalon, where, as Merlin once prophesized, he will rest and one day return to save the world from darkness once more. But then I wonder; would one man be ever enough to save the entire world? Would I have to loose him all over again? His is strong, always will be, but treachery and betrayal will be ever present amongst the ones he trusts the most. History will repeat itself.

As I near my destination, I falter. I, the immortal sorceress whom all of Camelot feared, was frightened. What if he damned my presence? Refused to acknowledge me or even worse, hate me? Even so, I was bound to carry out this task, out of duty and love, and I had no choice but to swallow my fears, and move forward.

I finally reach the shore, where I see Sir Bedivere holding him, Arthur. Even near death, I still smile when I see him. Golden hair tousled as usual and ice blue eyes looking sharp and bright as ever. He has not changed in all the time that we had been apart, except for the full- fledged beard he now sports. He sees me, and he too smiles. That small smile put all the fears that had burdened my shoulders for decades to rest, and I breathe easier just seeing him smile. He forgives me.

He motions weakly for Sir Bedivere to help him onto the boat, and at long last, I can finally hold him safe in my arms. After every betrayal, every shattered heart and every battle fought, he is finally here with me again.

I see that his sword, the magical Excalibur, is no longer by his side. So it has finally returned to the Lady of the Lake. I still remember the day Merlin beheld the magnificent blade to Arthur, how he had marveled at the words 'Take me up' and 'Cast me away' engraved on both sides of the sword. It does not matter anymore, none of it does. Excalibur shall lie below the deep depths of Avalon, awaiting the day it will return to the hands of Arthur.

Sir Bedivere let our boat go. I see him kneeling by the shore, lamenting the loss of his great king. I feel a little twinge of guilt in my heart. Must my joy be the grief of others? But I cannot help it. The balance of the world must be kept. Even as Arthur leaves, Constantine of Cornwall will rise as the next High King of Britain. It is his destiny.

Our little boat floats on, heading towards Avalon. Clasping Arthur's large, calloused hands in my own, I finally speak, 'I have missed you'. Smiling, his answer came as thinly as a sheet of ice, 'So have I. I am glad to be finally rid of everything.' I bend down, kissed his brow gently, 'For now, Arthur, rest. We are going home soon.' And I give him one last prophecy, 'When all the world is at strife and all of hope gone, when the people unite to vanquish evil and its roots, when the call of an eagle awakes the dragon, you will rise once more, and lead the people to victory.' He breathes in deeply, 'You have much faith in me Morgana, but what if I fail?' My voice steels, 'You will not fail Arthur, for I am Morgana Le Fay, seer and sorceress, and it is your destiny.'

A little chuckle comes from him; quiet, tired, yet at the same time, happy and tender, 'Destiny, my dear Morgana, is a tad overrated.' I return his laugh, 'Too true, have we not proved that already? But come, rest now, I will still be here when you awake in Avalon.' His tired eyes finally closes, his breathing slowed, a content smile playing on his lips. I whisper into his ear with all the love and promise in my heart, 'I will always be here.'


End file.
